Big Daddy
by Lord of the Saiyans
Summary: A Big Daddy is taken from the streets of Rapture. Bonding with a certain white-haired girl it accompanies her on her trip across the surface world. But the legacy of Rapture has some surprises in store for both of them. Some, they may not survive.


Darkness. No sound or sensation. Even the ever-present ache of his armour, the agony of his bones was quieted and muted. He did not think as other men might think. His thoughts were not straightforward, not flashing arrows of intent like other men. Once, he had been like other men but then... then the pain, and the coldness and the numbness. And her... Yes her. The only thought that mattered. The only thing in his demented world that held meaning. Her pale face, her eyes, her very appearance bored into his soul.

What had happened? Did...did he die? It was hard to remember... his past was jumbled, like a strip of film cut into a million pieces and pasted back together at random. Once, he remembered he had been in pain, so maybe he was dead. But he also remembered recovering from that pain so maybe he wasn't. It was so hard to focus... his mind shied away from the past, perhaps in some form of self-defence. Maybe the past was not a good place to be.

He needed to get up.

He couldn't. His battered brain commanded, but his legs refused. He couldn't feel them at all. Strange... it was almost disquieting to be without the pain that had become as much a part of him as his armour. He was, for once, without pain. He felt empty inside. Something was missing... but he didn't know what. Just thinking about it made his head-ache much worse. He didn't know what was happening, what was real or what wasn't. He needed _her. _ When she was nearby, the pain dimmed. When she was nearby he felt...whole. Not like now. Now he felt the terrible emptiness so keenly.

He tried to move again, what was left of his will battered against his muscles. The _urge. _ The single, important thought overrode everything else. She would need him... she would be without a protector. His heart hammered in his metal chest. The very thought of her, his beautiful, innocent charge being chased by splicers. It made him rage. The rage that could drive him straight through the strongest wall without flinching; the rage that could empower him to kill with such relish and impunity. It thundered through him, he felt stronger. Like always the power was accompanied by a cocktail of chemicals delivered directly into his veins. Under such circumstances, it would have been impossible for him _not _to move. With every bone, every nerve, every fibre of his being he felt the _need _to move. To protect. To defend. His own existence didn't matter in the slightest. Nothing but a thin scrap of paper, easily torn away if it meant that she could live.

He managed to twitch.

A voice, soft and melodious. A woman's voice. She said something, but the words didn't mean anything to him. Not many did. He just couldn't bring himself to focus most of the time.. Not unless she was with him. Then, he was better. But she wasn't with him now. Besides, she spoke in a strange, clicking, _mechanical _language. The tongue technology, the language of constructs. He had no way of knowing this. He wouldn't have cared even if he did. Nothing mattered but her.

Nothing but her.

He struggled to rise, this time he actually managed to move a few inches before he was jerked back to the ground. Something was holding him there. Something strong. He struggled against it; massive muscles grown with chemical agents strained. Enough raw force to bend steel, to fracture metal and to make the thickest walls crumble all were for nought. He didn't stop, he kept going. More strength! More power! His rage built, chemicals pouring into his blood, his muscles acting on it. Putting out enough strength to rip themselves clean off his skeleton... if he still had a proper skeleton. The restraints began to bend he could feel them slowly giving. Still unable to see, he forged forwards. Pain was back. That was good. He was used to pain. It distracted from the emptiness.

The voice again.

" Doctor, he's awake."

He didn't understand it ether. But some deep part of him remembered enough... he knew it was speaking of him. It galvanised him, his muscles began to burn but that was also a good pain. Pain was life. Life meant duty. She needed him!

With a roar of pure rage, he ripped his left arm free. The sudden freedom drove him onwards again. He flailed, trying to rip his arm loose.

A man's voice, scared, terrified even. He didn't understand the words, but enough was left of him to comprehend the emotions behind them.

" He's breaking loose! This isn't supposed to happen... He's generating far more raw power than we could have predicted. None of the simulations said anything abou-"

" Forget your simulations, doctor." This voice was also male, but calm. Smooth, controlled. Though the words didn't register, he found himself hating the voice.

" He's alive." Breathed the third voice. " Amazing. Dead for so long and yet restored in the blinking of an eye."

His eyes were beginning to work; his helmet rapidly coming into focus. Outside the glass window... all was white. Blinding light. He growled his displeasure, struggled harder.

The first voice spoke, " The good we could do... Imagine just what we have in our hands here! Death no longer the end! But first, let's sedate this one."

He began to feel weaker, his rage dimming under an artificial stupor. Sinking back onto whatever he was lying on, he could only listen as the unintelligible words washed over him.

" With this technology we can solve the problems of a galaxy! Bringing back the dead is only the beginning. If we can modify the design to create none-living substances we could solve hunger, energy crisis on less developed worlds could be ended forever. We stand on the first rung of a grand ladder. If we can harness this technology we can-"

There was a loud bang, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. _Body. _ Suggested a temporally coherent sliver of thought. It was a noise he knew very well indeed.

The third voice spoke.

" And that takes care of that loose end. Anyone else like to go on about the betterment of the universe? No? Good. Now, we all know why we're really here right? Excellent. Pack up the machine, gather the research notes. Burn everything else. "

There was a pause then the third man said, " And kill anyone who, like our dear departed friend over there, has more heart than brains. We came here for a reason, let's not fail now."

A female voice. " What about him?"

" Him? He was a failure, the body was generated but it was never alive. Besides, all they'll ever find is a crispy suit. But just to be sure..."

There was the spitting of some kind of gun and pain bloomed across his chest. He roared in agony, even in his comatose state. It felt like a great gaping hole had been ripped in his armour. Gradually, his thrashing grew weaker... his mind began to recede into the darkness.

The confident voice, slowly fading away yet still audible.

" Now I'm sure I don't have to remind you just what will happen if the Spirals find out about this? Burn EVERYTHING. They can't chase us if they don't know we're still alive. This time, the bastards will get what's coming to them."

Darkness swallowed him and he knew no more.

Time passed. Days, weeks or years, perhaps centuries. Maybe even longer. He wormed his way back into the world of the living slowly. Clawing through the darkness. Fighting for every metaphorical inch. He was cold. That was the first revelation, then he had to think about what ''cold'' was. After cold, there was pain. So much pain, like his entire body was aflame. And yet he did not feel disturbed by this. He didn't know why. He could hear the gentle patter of rain against something metal... a suit? A metal suit? Why would he wear such a thing?

He tried to remember... it was so hard. So hard to drudge up the thoughts. The memories seemed to buzz and fly around the inside of his head. A swarm of millions. Somewhere within, the one single memory he wanted. But he couldn't find it. He felt slow, a lumbering giant chasing flitting flashes of silvery light. He didn't have a chance.

He opened his eyes and the pain intensified. A great, white light pouring into his brain through his helmet. H growled incoherently – why couldn't he speak? – and tried to shift himself. His body was heavy. And he was stuck. A thick, clinging mud had swallowed him almost totally. If he turned his head, he could see it. He should have been able to move still. It was only mud... but he felt weak. So weak. He had been away from _her _for too long. A part of him realised with horror. The rest, was too far gone to notice. The primal strength that was the signature of his kind had gone from him. His muscles useless. Helplessly, lay in the mud and waited to die.

Then, the earth shook. Blinking, against the searing white he could just make out the silhouette of a giant man. No, not a giant man. A giant machine without a head. Features had been picked out on its chest. If he were normal, he might have been curious. He wasn't in the slightest. The giant robot was carrying a case of some kind – it looked small compared to the machine but was actually big enough for a person. It dropped the case with another rumble, the mud seemed to dance at the impact. Licking up at the metal walls. The machine didn't even bother to look around before departing. Stomping into the distance.

He just barely was able to notice that there were other cases around. Exactly like the one that had just been dumped. They weren't very ornate – just four walls made of metal and some kind of lock but there must have been hundreds of them. Stretching as far as he could see – which was, admittedly, not very far at the moment.

Was he going to die? Death, as a concept, was far too large for his brain to wrap itself around. The closest he could approximate was a rather crude ''Not being''. He didn't think of death, he didn't fear it... and yet some part of him knew it. He didn't fear death... but he didn't want to stop being ether.

There had been something he'd had to do, hadn't there? Something important... he frowned behind his iron mask. _Her _face appearing, beautiful angelic. So young. She...she needed a protector. But where was she? He couldn't feel their bond at all. It was a cold stark reality. In his short, frenzied life he couldn't recall a time when he hadn't been able to feel her. Of course, he couldn't recall very much at all but this... he would have remembered this. It was cold... terribly cold. And he couldn't focus at all. Not even the lowest rung of concentration that he usually could muster to fight. It was all draining out of him, all sucked away.

She was gone and he was alone. Their link had been severed. Scrambled as his mind was, confused, dazed and perhaps even insane, he still knew exactly what that meant. His Little Sister was dead.

He wanted to wail, he wanted to kill, he wanted to lash out. The confusing mix of emotions were the strongest he had felt in his life – hatred, grief, rage. But most of all, he wanted what he could never have. He wanted her back. Her face filled his mind's eye, her thin little fingers within his large, armoured ones. The way she would tug him along the leaking corridors, The tiny doll she used to play with, made out to look like him. All these things rose from his memory of their own accord.

He wanted to rage! But he couldn't move. His muscles frozen, his body dying without their link. Their beautiful, perfect link. He felt weak, getting weaker. He was going to stop existing. He could just about understand that. Maybe that was for the best then... if she were gone then what was he?

Then, he felt it. Faint, weak, but present. A _tugging. _With strength he had not possessed before, he rose to his feet. He didn't even notice the massive hole in his armour as it slowly folded back into itself. The metal shining as it repaired itself in an emerald glow. The sheer blinding light all around him began to fade, stumbling towards the call all else ceased to matter. His drill whirred uncertainly as he regarded the newest of the metal boxes. He felt the pull from there... but it was not like one he was used to feeling. It was not the call of a Little Sister. Yet it spoke to him. He didn't understand any of it... but he had not been made to understand. All that had ever mattered was that he obeyed.

He obeyed.

Without thinking, he did as he was bidden. There was some kind of lock on the case, a tiny hole as though for a drill. His own drill was far too big.. but that didn't stop him. Jamming it into the indentation, he felt the metal smash and rupture. It shouldn't have worked; the lock was more than simple mechaics. In a thousand other places, in a million other times it didn't work. Right now, it did. There was a hiss of escaping air, a seal of some kind that he hadn't noticed before was released and slowly, the top rose.

Inside, was a girl. Pale white hair fell down to her shoulders, she was wearing a dress more suited to a palace than this wasteland. She blinked a few times, as though waking from a very deep sleep. He didn't know what to do. She was not his Little Sister... but the tug was there, the link was in full force. Just being near her made him feel stronger. He didn't understand any of this.

She yawned, stretching. Her eyes were strange, he realised. They didn't glow like the ones he was used to. And she was older than his Little Sister.

He looked at him without fear. He wasn't used to that. The deep animal part of him could scent fear. Most people feared him. With good reason. Splicers knew how easily he could –and would- rip them apart to protect his charge. Other Bid Daddies were wary of him... that was natural. Fights between Big Daddies simply didn't happen... but sometimes confrontations could. If two Little Sisters tried to gather from the same angel. Always, he had been looked at with fear or wariness. The only one who hadn't had been his charge and now this girl. This girl who he felt through the Link.

He was confused. But that had never mattered before. He did what his instincts told him.

" Hello." The girl said. "Are you human?"

All he could do was grumble back, in the low tones of his kind. She frowned.

"Can't you speak?"

He didn't answer, merely held out his hand. She took it and as he helped her down from the great metal box. Standing carefully on the mud, he looked out over the wasteland.

" Where are we?"

He could not respond. She turned to look at him, she'd always wanted to meet a real living human. Back at the palace, she had always wanted to explore the world. The Beastmen had always kept her cooped up – her tutors had said it was for her own protection. That the humans were a dangerous, cowardly species that was waging constant war against them. That as a princess, she must be protected above all else. Even her Father had agreed... or must have agreed. It was strange, but she had never seen him say so. Still, surely he would have said something to her if it were otherwise? But why was she out here? The last thing she remembered she had been asking father why she was here...

It clicked into position with a flood of warmth. He must have sent her out here to see the world! How else would she know why she was here? It all made sense now. Bless him, he hadn't answered her because he couldn't. In his wisdom, he had sent her out here to learn it all for herself. And that meant that...

She turned to the giant behind her. She didn't feel fear. In her whole life, Nia had never been in any real danger. She had meet and talked easily with beings most humans would have been terrified of. Beastmen with wolves head, snake's tails. Four legs. Winged falcon-men with beaks rather than mouths. Compared to some of the things she'd seen, the armoured form standing in front of her was almost mundane. Her heart told her that this one was sent to protect her. She looked at him, with his drill, his armour, his massive figure and she did not feel fear. She felt comfort.

" You're hear to protect me, aren't you? My father sent you."

Again, he did not answer. She was curious about him. Nia had seen many beastmen and many ganmen, but never anything like him. She had thought that he might be human but if he worked for her father then he probably wasn't. Still, he was here and her heart told her to trust him.

" Shall we go then?" She asked brightly. Taking his massive, metal hand.

" I've always wanted to see the world."

To be continued.


End file.
